


Baby Not On Board

by kimimela



Series: some damn time stamps [5]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Mpreg, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-20 11:19:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3648387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimimela/pseuds/kimimela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time Stamp.  Wherein Danny is in turns annoyed, amorous, and furious with his husband.  Doris' presence does not help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Pursuit of Pickles and Other Foods

“You are not driving.” The bastard commands with his patented I Know Everything Face on, arms crossed decisively.

 

“The hell I'm not!" Danny declares. "I have things to do. People to see. Food to eat. _You-,”_ He cannot believe this man before him. Pokes him angrily in the chest to make his point. _“D_ o not make that call.”

 

His feet are swollen, his back hurts, and he can't move anywhere without waddling. What is he supposed to do. Walk? That's a laugh.

 

“I can drive you. Let me take you.”  Steve tries to negotiate, making his hand chopping gesture.

 

“Absolutely not.” He refuses. The man's been breathing down his neck as it is.  He can't take much more of this treatment.

 

Steve throws his hands up. Kono is guffawing to the side, failing at being a professional. It has been a slow morning at 5-0 headquarters.  They are in the bullpen.  And he has officially had enough.

 

“I am a capable adult, _Steven._ I do not need you to escort me about town like some invalid. I want fried pickles.”  He pauses, jutting his chin forward, hands on his hips. “It's not some long trek across the desert to an oasis to get some great prize. That food truck is three miles away right now. _And I will not be stopped._ ”  He concludes with a raised fist.

 

Steve just gives him a crooked smile which pisses him off.  “You're in a mood today, aren't ya?”

 

Danny tries to grab the keys off the table but isn't quick enough. Steve grabs them hastily holding them out of reach. He feels his face redden in anger.

 

“Steve.” He warns.

 

“Danny,"  His husband begins in a stupid soothing tone.  "Someone has to drive you. Kono can take you; if you won't let me.” Steve gestures widely to their coworker. She seconds the suggestion like a damn traitor.

 

Steve tosses her the keys, and Danny sighs in defeat. Pickles are calling to him. He has bigger fish to fry.

 

He had had to download the app on his smart phone to track several food trucks. Unfortunately for him, his cravings tend to move around. Thank God Kamekona's truck is permanently parked.

 

He will never tell Kamekona he is cheating on him, but Greta Nguyen's Vietnamese Cuisine is his favorite food truck. She has most of the things he craves on any given day. Fried egg sandwiches. Fish cakes. Pineapple, mango, and pork kebabs. And his favorite: fried pickles with dumplings.

 

His cravings have been greatly influenced by the McGarrett growing inside of him. Kono tries to offer her assistance to pull him out of the Camaro. But he ignores her, swatting away her helping hand. Spotting his goal already. And sighing at the line before him.

 

He waddles onward. Kono in his wake. Taking his queue in line.

 

If there is one good thing about Hawaii. It is the people's openness to male pregnancies. He'd probably be in hiding if he was back in Jersey. But on the islands he is embraced – sometimes too much - something about the duality of nature. Steve tried to explain it to him once. They all think he is some token of luck and fertility now. Women like to crowd around him and touch his stomach – and at eight months – he has a rather prodigious belly.

 

A young woman shyly engages him in line, and he allows her to pat his stomach. She says something friendly in Pidgin that makes Kono smile. When he's at the head of the line, Greta greets him by name. He loves that about her.

 

“When are you gonna lose the beach ball, Danny?”  Greta asks in her croaky voice, notepad at the ready to take his order.

 

“In four weeks with luck.” He taps the serving counter, considering. “Can I get some water, two baskets of fried pickles, and a pan-fried cake please?”

 

She hands him his food in record time, giving him a smile.  “Bring that baby here for me to look at. I want to see the child making me so rich.” She turns to give Kono her order as Danny makes his way to a picnic table.

 

He sits sideways on the bench. It is the only way he fits anymore. He's halfway through his first basket of delectable fried pickles when Kono settles in front of him.

 

“Remember to breathe, brah. I have to bring you back to the office alive.”  Kono gently chides.

 

“Bite me,” Danny replies with a smirk, and takes an exaggerated bite out of his pickle. Kono laughs at him and digs in. He wonders if he can convince Greta to park outside of headquarters in case of food related emergency. He wouldn't mind Steve trailing him if it was just to the parking lot.

 

The driving Miss Daisy routine is so old it's rotting. He had left in the truck the other day to run to the post office and been pulled over minutes later by Pua Kai following orders from his crazy baby daddy. Pua had been laughing hysterically at the whole thing, but his idiotic husband was dead serious.

 

“I don't want you to be driving alone right now. It's safer to have someone with you now that you're so far along.” Steve had said when he arrived.

 

“That is what crazy, abusive husbands say in the Lifetime movies with Valerie Bertinelli, Steve. You'll find I'm alone plenty and nothing too bad happens.” He had responded testily, waving his hands to emphasize his very valid points. “Besides my doctor said I could handle moderate activity. It's not like I'm on bed rest.”

 

“Just, please, Danny? No driving somewhere alone.” Steve had looked at him imploringly. The man had been on high danger alert since the beginning of his third trimester. Afraid something would happen. What - he has no idea - because his husband is a crazy person with control issues.

 

They had gone to one of their governor-mandated couples therapy sessions not long after and he had brought the issue up. The psychiatrist had the nerve to agree with Steve - much to his chagrin - only adding to his anger.

 

He finishes his pan-fried cake and guzzles his water down. Kono's phone is ringing, and they have a case to her delight.

 

They return to headquarters to analyze the case. Lou and Steve take off to interview suspects. Chin and Kono are running down a theory. And he goes to his office to finish another load of reports.

 

Like a bad ass.

 

Rolls his eyes because it is _totally_ okay for him to be alone at headquarters, but not the deserted road five blocks away from home.

 

Being office bound blows the big one. He manages calls and brings up information on the smart table when the team needs. Chin reminds him to be kind to the precious machinery. He mostly writes up reports and requisitions now. He has organized everyone's offices now except Steve's. Ignoring his husband's office mostly out of a misplaced sense of revenge. He really misses being out in the field. That's his bread and butter. So sue him.

 

He knows he ought not to be out there. He'd just be a liability at this point. Sometimes - in a rare, private moment - he can admit to himself that he misses putting up with Steve's driving and tendency towards general foolishness during a high-stake case.

 

Late that night, he cuts up a mango to eat and watches a hockey game in the dark of the living room. The baby must think it is time to swim because it turns and rolls within him, stretching. He puts a hand on his stomach and feels what he guesses is a foot incessantly prodding at him.

 

“What are you doing, little baby?” He asks quietly. “Don't you know it's time to relax?”

 

He hears his husband's steps on the stairs and Steve plops down next to him on the couch. “Couldn't sleep?” Steve asks him quietly, scratching at his jaw.

 

“Nah. The circus is in town. You would not believe the acrobatics.” Danny responds, patting his stomach meaningfully. “You?”

 

“Dreams.” Steve shrugs off and moves to rest the side of his head on top of Danny's stomach, placing his hands on either side. He grins like a maniac when the baby punches him in the head. “That's so cool.”  He says.

 

“Imagine it from the inside.”

 

Steve kisses his stomach briefly and straightens. He stretches out beside him, throwing his arm over Danny's shoulders.

 

Danny watches his game, and Steve is a dirty liar who lies. Because he almost immediately falls asleep beside him. Usually, when Steve has nightmares, it takes him a while to settle down to sleep. The baby calms some. The game ends, and he nudges Steve to get up and come to bed.

 

He sleeps well enough considering his back aches most of the time, making it difficult to find a comfortable resting place. He has a strange dream where Steve brings an ugly cat home and insists on putting it in the crib. He begins to tell dream Steve all the reasons why that is not cool, when he jolts to wakefulness hearing a click of a gun being loaded.

 

It's early morning - barely light out. Steve is standing beside the bed, gun in hand. Serious SEAL Face on. He puts a finger over his lips. Which is completely unnecessary because a second later the house alarm goes off.  It is loud. The baby kicks him sharply making him want to take a detour to pee. He hears his and Steve's phones vibrate with the notification from the house alarm. Knows that the teams' phones are also going off in their respective homes. He's glad for once Grace is in her mother's house.

 

“Stay here,” Steve commands. Danny watches his husband bound out of the room. Determined look still on his face. He scrambles out of bed. Listening hard. Thinks about getting his own gun out.

 

The alarm is suddenly shut off mid-blare. And he hears Steve talking sternly to someone. He decides it must be safe to make his way downstairs.

 

“I tried to use my key, but you must have changed the locks. It's good you updated your security system.” Says a familiar female voice.

 

“The doorbell exists for a reason, Mom.”  He hears Steve reply.

 

Oh, shit. No. No. Please, no.

 

“I didn't want to wake you."  The woman tells Steve airily.  "Besides picking the locks of your own home is not illegal.” She adds.

 

Damn it, why? It's too early for this crap.

 

He makes the turn halfway down the stairs coming into view of the two McGarretts in front of him. Doris turns to look at him and daintily places her hand at her hip.

 

“Danny Williams.”

 

“Doris.” He replies evenly, eyeing his husband who totally has Aneurysm Face on right now. He looks back at her. “To what do we owe this early morning pleasure?”

 

“Look at you-” Her eyes are alight. She is smiling at him, looking him up and down which is strange and disturbing. “I heard you were pregnant. You look ready to pop. I can't believe this, this is so incredible.”

 

Oh, shit. That's right. She didn't know. He places his hand over his stomach like he could hide it from her. He would need to be a magician to do that at this point. It gives him the heebie-jeebies to see her gaze directed at his midsection.

 

“Why are you here, Mom?” Steve cuts in.

 

“I wanted to see you, Steve. It's been awhile. And I wanted to visit before you get busy with being a new daddy.” She answers earnestly with a slight wave of her hand. “I also happen to have some business in the area.”

 

Bingo. He thinks.

 

“How'd you find out?”  Steve questions.

 

“Honestly, is it some secret? Mary Ann told me. Some time ago now.” They look at each other and some sort of stalemate is going on here. He can feel the tension.

 

He decides to relieve some of his own and heads to the bathroom.

 

Steve's on the phone with a member of the team when he returns. Calling off the alarm. Doris is making coffee in the kitchen. She's looking at the most recent sonogram they posted on the fridge next to Grace's stellar report card. She smiles at him when he enters. He feels his hackles rise. He _cannot_ trust this woman. But it is Steve's call if he allows her to stick around. He has to remember that.

 

She turns toward him when he enters the kitchen.  Acknowledging him with a nod.  “You're carrying kind of high. I bet it's a girl.”

 

“Steve wants a girl."  He says.  It surprised him at first.  Steve seems like the kind of guy who would root for a boy.  "I don't care either way.”  He adds.

 

“I think girls are easier at first. But they have their difficulties too.” Doris comments as she leans against the counter.

 

Danny hums and begins to make breakfast, opening the cabinets to get at the cereal. Steve enters hanging up his phone, and places himself squarely between him and Doris, crossing his arms.

 

“Where are you staying?”  Steve demands.

 

“I have a place nearby."  Doris answers coolly.  "You remember the place Mary rented? It's in the same neighborhood. I think it's very nice. Good space.”

 

“Are you working something now? I don't want you here if you are.”

 

Danny can't see his face, but he can see Steve's shoulders are set in a line. It feels like he should leave maybe. Give them some space. Nothing like some family interrogations.

 

“I'm not doing anything dangerous, Steve. I'm here as a consultant only. Unofficially, I'm retired.” 

 

Please. This woman.  He can barely prevent himself from snorting at that one.

 

He settles himself on the comfy chair in the den. Cereal bowl on his stomach. Doris pours coffee for them. She looks almost domestic in their kitchen. Her own kitchen years ago. He tries to think of her as a parent with Steve and Mary. It isn't too hard to conjure up in his head. From what Steve's said, she was a good mother before.

 

He can't imagine leaving Grace or the baby. The idea makes him feel sick and angry. He gets scared sometimes now. It is just paranoia - his old friend. Rachel will never try to leave the island permanently with Grace again. But the idea of being torn between his children is upsetting. The baby kicks him in the ribs, reminding him to chill out.

 

Doris is looking at the bookshelf in the den, coffee in hand. “This is a nice house to raise children in. John bought it when we knew I was expecting Steve.” She pauses and runs her hand over the spines of the books. “We made a lot of good memories here. It's still a good neighborhood and school district.”

 

Steve still seems unsure. The last time they saw her had been almost two years ago. They had just gotten married a week before when she showed up. And that had not exactly been a happy occasion. They had let a lot of ugly business air between them. Wo Fat was the first on that list of grievances.

 

Plus the woman had essentially said he was holding Steve back. That only slightly rankles him.

 

Slightly.

 

“What's the consultant job?” Steve asks.

 

“The governor reached out to the CIA to send an operative to assist the new public safety liaison in charge of the islands set up shop. I was more than qualified. So I volunteered.”

 

“How generous of you.” Danny adds, sarcastic.

 

Doris levels him a critical look, mouth pursed. She looks back at her son. “I believe you know her – a Lori Weston – I met her the other day. Pretty young lady?”

 

“Lori's in town?” Steve looks befuddled.

 

They drop Doris off at her new place and head into headquarters. He's got heartburn like a bitch and wants at some of the seltzer water he has in his office.  Steve seems to be mulling over the arrival of his mother.  Expression serious.

 

“I don't want her hanging around the house when I'm not there.”  Steve orders.

 

“Sounds good.” He replies, mind elsewhere. Seltzer. Seltzer.

 

Steve is frowning. He goes to the weapons case. He likes to clean them when he thinks. It comforts him. It is probably a learned behavior Danny surmises.

 

He grabs his seltzer and is waylaid by Kono. “I hear a certain McGarrett matriarch is back.”

 

“You heard right.” He starts drinking it. Sweet damn relief.

 

“Is she sticking around?”

 

“Not sure.” He wipes his mouth. Feels the carbonation continue its merciful work.

 

“I'm not babysitting another McGarrett. I volunteered for you. And I am not trained for that level of danger.” She waves her hand at him looking graceful and a hell of a lot more put together than he feels right now.

 

“I'm _not_ a McGarrett.”

 

“But you're incubating one. That counts.”

 

“You swore not to use that against me.” He is still a paramount of logic and repose. Damn it.

 

Lou Grover is munching on a malasada in the bull pen when they return. Considering Steve with a frown.

 

“Have you considered that she  _really_ is here to visit you.”

 

“Not her style.” Steve responds curtly. Focused on his chore. Danny knows it is not a good sign that Steve has the industrial tin of gun oil out. Weapons spread before him

 

“Well she's your mother. You would know best.”

 

They give him space and go about their work. Around mid-morning they get word that the governor is back in town and bringing in officials from D.C. Steve is expected at the meeting, but they get a call that there are some art thieves in town that they have dealt with before. And they've killed two people this time. HPD is on the scene and wants their back up.

 

Steve grudgingly agrees to send Danny in his place to meet with the governor.

 

He likes the Governor's Mansion. If he was here for a tour, he'd probably like it better. But as it is the meetings are usually boring.

 

The secretary is nice. She makes sure he has water even when he had politely declined her offer. He is in the waiting room when it is announced Governor Denning arrived, and he is directed into a private conference room by the secretary.

 

He is only mildly surprised to come face to face so soon with his old friend and teammate. They haven't kept in touch very much. Lori's been earning her stripes elsewhere. She looks good. Her hair is shorter, but she looks beautiful as ever. Eyes shining. She gushes over him.

 

“Oh my God, Danny! When are you due? I had no idea you were this far along.”

 

“In a few weeks.” He replies and they catch up quickly. He knows the other people in the room. Representatives from other branches of defense and security in Hawaii.

 

Governor Denning introduces Lori to those who don't know her. Explains she will be taking up the recently vacated public safety liaison position for the islands effective in a couple of weeks. They review old and new security threats.

 

A big summit party is coming up for diplomats on a foreign ocean liner at one of Hawaii's scenic ports. It sounds like a big deal and it is where several countries are supposed to sign an international free trade agreement. The governor and other D.C. officials are invited. The governor will be signing too. 5-0 will also be attending though as guests for once. It is pretty routine otherwise, but he requests a copy of the minutes afterward anyway to supplement his personal notes.

 

Lori hangs close to him after the meeting ends. “So is Steve freaking out yet?”

 

“Kinda. I mean, he isn't exactly pleased his mother is back in town.”

 

She rolls her eyes and grins, “The baby, Williams. Is he freaking out about the kid?”

 

“Oh, that.” He can feel the baby start hiccuping. Reminding him of its presence. “No, he's excited. If he's nervous he hides it from me.”

 

She smiles. “You are such a good dad already I bet he isn't worried at all.”

 

“I hope not.” He assumes Steve will eventually freak out. New parents usually do the first week. He sure did the first time around. Rachel too in a way.

 

They make their way to the exit. He groans in defeat when he spots Kamekona toddling his way up the steps.

 

“Kame!” Lori beams. Happy to see another old friend. “What brings you here?”

 

“Sweet Thing, it's been too long since I see you.” He flirts, grinning cheekily. “But I'm here to pick up Jersey.”  He hooks a thumb to him.

 

“C'mon! I was gonna call a cab and everything. No driving!” This is some bull.

 

“Sorry, bruddah. You know I owe Steve.”

 

“You owe me too!” He growls in frustration. “Everyone has betrayed me.” Lori laughs at his dramatics, and they make plans to meet up later that night.

 

His temper really does not improve when he gets back to headquarters - after a quick visit to the smoothie stand – and finds his mother-in-law reclining in Steve's chair at his desk. File open in hand.

 

“For real, Doris? This is 5-0 headquarters. You can't be in here alone.” He reprimands.

 

“You know, the security here is really sub par for what is supposed to be an elite task force. I'm doing reconnaissance here.” She taps the open file. “Anyway I have my visitors pass. People know I'm here for work.” She states leaning her chin on her hand, trying to look innocent. He crosses his arms.

 

Doris leans back in the chair and points at him grinning. “I also saw on Steve's calendar that you have an obstetrician's appointment today. Care if I tag along? I'd love to get a closer look at my grandbaby.”

 

Hell no.

 

The problem here is that he allows her to speak.

 

Doris is persuasive.

 

He has heard the rumors. Chin told him she was. He's experienced it first-hand now.

 

He hates that about her. Knows where Steve gets that damn baleful wounded dog look.

 

Hormones have made him weak. He's gone soft.

 

“Yeah ... okay.” He eventually concedes. He needs a ride anyway and Kamekona took off.

 

He is only mildly embarrassed anymore to have guests in sonogram. He took his mother to an appointment when she visited in the spring. She had loved it. It seems fair.

 

“But if they do an exam, I'm gonna have you leave the room.” That is the line in the damn sand.

 

The waiting room is packed. He is the only guy. Pregnant guy that is. He is used to it. Doris looks ridiculous browsing the Good Parenting magazine. He may or may not take a subtle picture of her reading it.

 

The gel is cold when it gets spread over his bump. He feels gross and bloated most of the time. But it is worth it to hear the fast heart beat fill up the room. He looks at the grainy screen and can see the evident shape of the baby. Squiggling around.

 

“Everything looks good. The measurements are great … Oh, and we're getting a little wave now. I love it when they do that.” Announces the technician, pointing to the screen.

 

The baby is moving its hand. And it does sort of look like he or she is waving at them. The technician takes some pictures to print out.

 

“It must be strange for you to have been on both sides of a pregnancy.” Doris quietly remarks when they are alone in the room.

 

He turns his head to speak to her more clearly. “I think it was strange for me at first. But I'm more used to it now. Both seem normal to me. Sometimes though, I feel like I'm having some kind of out of body experience.”

 

It got better once he could feel the baby moving in him. It gave him confirmation of his goal. He had had a difficult time adjusting to the idea of being pregnant early on. Even though they had been trying for baby. His body changing like he had been told it could when he was a prepubescent. He sees now where he was too overbearing as a soon-to-be dad when Rachel was expecting Grace. He's called to apologize a few times. She always laughs at him and provides some comfort.

 

There is some ruckus out in the hallway. Doris frowns. He hears shoes squeaking over laminate floors.

 

“I'm here. I'm here.” His husband barges into the exam room. Eyes widening in surprise at the guest Danny brought today. He looks dusty. His face streaked with some kind of dirt. Tac vest still on.

 

“Mom?” He says dumbly, going to stand beside Danny.

 

“The hell did you blow up today, Steve?” He taps at Steve's vest, and tries to brush off some of the dust. “Did you bring me someone to interrogate?”

 

“No, Danny.” He smiles easily, rolling his eyes. “I got your message. I forgot about the appointment. Sorry, I'm late.”

 

“It's okay.” He shrugs. The hell if he cares if Steve shows up. Steve is a busy man. He's the only one who has to be here.  The monitor is still on.  Danny relaxes listening to it, waiting for their doctor. Steve taps his fingers to the beat of the baby's heart. Asks about the initial sonogram.

 

“Baby looks great she said.” He gives Steve the copy of the sonogram. Points out the waving hand which makes Steve grin.

 

“Already with the hands.” Steve teases like the little shit he is.

 

His OB arrives and she reviews the measurements and his blood work with him. She wants to do an exam so he tells Doris to beat it. Tells Steve he can go if he wants. He sticks around.

 

She's poking around his nethers. “You're birth canal is developing nicely. You could probably safely give birth through it. But I still think a C-section is the way to go.”

 

“I'm with you on that 100%, Doc.” He concurs. The idea of a birth canal is discomforting to him. It's developing where his perineum is. His body creating an escape hatch for the baby. It is strange, and he prefers not to think about it. Glad it will close after the baby is born. He had a hard enough time accepting what he was as a kid. The notion of being able to have a child like a woman disturbed him as a boy. He had wanted to be perceived as a man.

 

As a young man, he was scared even more when he found himself attracted to men. Males like him are born every 1 in 300 births. Seeing a pregnant man is about as common as seeing an albino person anymore. At least, that's what he read in a Time article once a couple years ago.

 

He rolls himself off the table in a practiced move. Phew. Nailed it.

 

Steve's got that stupid look on that he wears when he remembers he's going to be a father. As if, Danny being a walking-globe was not reminder enough. Doris smirks at him like she's cottoned on to what the look is for.

 

–

 

It has been a busy day. The team had wrapped the case and, Lori meets up with them at Kamekona's food truck. It is a nice reunion. Except that Doris is there. She who has been a permanent fixture of his day.

 

Steve orders him lime grilled shrimp so he's pretty content otherwise. He is working his way through his fourth kebab while the team converses over their meal.

 

“Slow down, Jersey.” Kamekona pats him heavily on the back, putting another platter on the table. “There's more shrimp than baby in you.”

 

That makes everyone laugh. It doesn't slow him down any. He reaches over for more.

 

“I must have only eaten shrimp and citrus fruits for a whole month when I was pregnant with Steve.”  Doris mentions.

 

Shit.

 

He did that too. Still a huge part of his diet.

 

He drops his food back into his basket. Frowning. Why would shrimp betray him like this?

 

“What have you been craving most, Danny?” Lori asks brightly.

 

Steve groans beside him. Danny senses the story coming down the track.

 

“ _Fried pickles.”_ Steve shakes his head and takes a swig of his Longboard before continuing. “Three months in I wake up in the dead of the night. And he's just sitting there in bed, _staring at me_. I thought he was going to kill me. He had been saying he would.”

 

“I was _not._ ” Danny scowls, petulant.

 

The team's heard versions of this story but Lori and Doris haven't. They are listening attentively.

 

“I am _ordered_ to drive to a 24 hour Walmart and buy a fryer and oil. I bring it back. Kitchen's a mess. Danny's beating eggs like a maniac and there's flour everywhere. All over the counters. We start frying them and Grace comes down. She thought we were high or something. I don't know. She kept asking if she should call someone. So then we had to tell her Danny was pregnant.”

 

“She didn't know?”

 

“Nah. We'd only found out maybe a month before. No one knew. We were just kind of sitting with it. Trying to plan some stuff out.”

 

“That's so cute.” Lori coos. “But when did you guys find out?”

 

“From the pee test thing.” Steve answers honestly. Danny rolls his eyes. That's when Steve found out. He figured it out by looking in the mirror a few days earlier. He hadn't needed to shave. Superficial male secondary sex characteristics decreasing. He had read it could happen.

 

He couldn't grow a beard now if his life depended on it.

 

Kono snorts at Steve's phrasing. Lou sighs resignedly, “Please. Some of us are eating here.”

 

Chin smiles genially, looking at Lori and Doris, adding, “We knew something was up. We were just afraid it was something bad.”

 

The baby squirms, making him wince as tiny limbs crack him in the ribs. He gets up feeling the sudden urge to use the restroom. Snagging a shrimp for the road.

 

He is cramping kind of badly when he makes it back to the table. He wants to lie down. Something must show in his face because Steve takes one look at him, and then they are saying their goodbyes.

 

He can't quite get comfortable in the car. He feels another sharp pain, and twists his mouth against it.

 

“Do I need to call your doctor?”

 

“No. It'll pass. It's that Braxton Hicks.”

 

–

 

He likes to lay on the daybed in the lanai. He had Steve put it there for Grace since she liked to sleep outside when it was nice. But he uses it the most anymore. It props him up just right.

 

When Grace is with them, she often curls up next to him on the overstuffed Papasan chair. They talk about all sorts of things. Usually silly things. But he likes those times. It won't be just the two of them much longer.

 

Steve is on the wide, round chair tonight. Lying on his back, limbs spread out, feet scrapping gently over the swept floors. He kept drinking when they got home. Danny supposes it is because of Doris.

 

The cramping stopped some time ago. The baby is moving slowly in him. Like it doesn't want to sleep.

 

“Why did you let her come today? To the appointment. You're not exactly each other's biggest fans.”

 

“I let my mom go.” He shrugs, relaxed. “I figured I should let her too.”

 

“You didn't have to do that.”

 

“I know.”

 

Steve pulls himself up, making the wicker creak. He prods at him until Danny moves to make room. Steve folds himself around Danny, bracketing him against the post.

 

He seems sad.

 

Danny scratches at his husband's 5 o'clock shadow trying to get him to talk. He likes to cuddle. He can admit it. No shame. It is unusual for Steve to initiate this sort of behavior though it is probably because he is drinking. He enjoys the feeling of closeness, and the arm not under Danny comes around to cover his belly, pressing a hand in carefully.

 

He moves Steve's hand to where he wagers the baby is settled. “Pretty sure the baby's head is here.”

 

They lay for awhile. He drifts in and out of sleep. The baby squirms, waking him up. Making him fidget.

 

“M' crowding you?” Steve asks in his ear. He shakes his head against his shoulder. Rubs his face into Steve's chest, back and forth. Steve shifts.

 

“Can we have sex out here?”

 

He considers. It is dark. They have a lot of cover back here. And Steve's presence is not pissing him off right now.

 

“Yeah, c'mon.”

 

It used to piss him off how much of a boy scout Steve was. Always be prepared and that crap. _Then_ jump head first into the bat-ass crazy situation. But he sure as hell doesn't mind it when it comes to sex.

 

He rolls so Steve can do all the work and prepare him, making his husband laugh.

 

“Well get to it.”  He prods.

 

“I always knew you'd be a bossy bottom.” Steve is smiling against his shoulder, bent over Danny's back as he lays forward in a kind of child's pose on the daybed to avoid putting pressure on his stomach. Pillows under him.

 

“Look whose talking.”  He retorts.

 

Steve is a billion times bossier when he's bottoming. Read: control issues. Not that he does not like controlling the pace. He totally does. It has been the name of the game since he got too big to comfortably top.

 

He groans when Steve gets to work. He always takes his time opening him up. No matter how much he tells him that he's ready. Like he's some goddamned prize. He gets a trill of excitement when the bastard gets at least two lubed fingers in and his prostate is being stimulated.

 

They are still mostly dressed. Steve's shirt is on, cargoes and underwear pushed down. Danny's are the same, but his shirt is rucked up around his armpits. It is hot when Steve lines up and pushes in slowly. His husband is resting on his knees and glued to his back, one arm supporting himself on the frame, the other wrapped around him. He pushes back on Steve, urging him on.

 

Steve is sucking marks into his spine, following a path upward. He can feel it. The pace is harsher than they've been able to manage lately which is so good. Because he was getting tired of being treated like some fragile thing.

 

“You're gonna fuck me this time then?” He eggs on.

 

“Uh-huh.” Steve responds intelligently, changing the angle but not the pace. Straightening his posture, pulling one of his legs back for space. Which is an excellent idea, because he feels his prostate get hit like a hammer on a nail, setting his teeth on edge, making him stutter out an expletive.

 

They last a little longer and he senses the coil in his gut tighten and comes like a freight train. Feels like a wet noodle afterward. Relaxed and loose. Steve's pulled out and massaging his lower back with one hand. He glances back, neck at a bad angle, watches Steve jacking himself roughly. Mouth slightly open, eyes far away.

 

“Babe?”

 

Steve's head twitches, eyes coming back to reality. He pulls Danny's hips forward, thrusting home again. Making him swallow his lungs. His eyes close at the sensation, and he turns his head forward. Overstimulation bringing him to the edge again. There's a quiver around the edges of another orgasm. Steve has been playing that card more lately.

 

Steve sucks another mark onto his back, biting down when he comes, covering him again like a blanket. Huffing out breaths at his neck for a few moments. Steve pulls him upward and off the bed, dragging the soiled bedding behind him.

 

They make their way to the shower to rinse off. Steve drops to his knees to blow him once they are inside. He pulls at Steve's hair which earns him a smack on the ass, and gets swallowed down. Steve is crazy proud of his reduced gag reflex. He should be.

 

The man has a gift.

 

\--

 

Two weeks later, the early afternoon of the trade agreement summit arrives. It meets him trying to decide which suit he owns that could possibly make him look the slimmest. He decides on the gray. It breathes better.

 

“I look like a planet.” The mirror is not his friend. Once, a long time ago maybe, but no more.

 

“I think you look good.” Steve stands beside him looking hot in his dark suit like a bastard. “But I'm biased.”

 

Steve grins at them in the mirror. Cocky son-of-a-bitch tries to slip his arm around him to grope him.

 

“No way you horny bastard. There are parts of me that are still chafed from earlier.”

 

But to be honest, he kind of is just chafed in general.

 

Steve pouts. He crowds him against the bed. “We can be late. As long as we show up eventually.”

 

They share a sweet kiss, but he pushes Steve away. Feeling like a planet is really not a turn on. Steve lays on his side, elbow bent, resting his chin on his fist. He leers at him while he dresses.

 

“I'll buy you some of those raspberry cakes you like.” Danny levels a look at him, unimpressed. Steve grins widely, wagging his eyebrows suggestively.

 

“Ooh, baby, oh baby.”

 

The ship is beautiful and huge looking. Steve tells him it is small for an ocean liner, but that does not take away from its grandeur. They had not been present when it arrived at port that morning. Chin summarized the ceremonial procession of the governor onto the ship with his entourage. Yachts arrive at the port holding diplomats from countries looking to make an impression. Other diplomats use the stairs like the rest of the guests.

 

10,000 or so guests have been arriving for the last two hours to take part in the party. A well-known singer is playing the part of lounge singer in one of the large bars on board. Waiters are islands on the deck bringing people drinks earning ridiculous tips.

 

They enjoy the view from the deck, drinks in hand. Everyone has dressed up for today. Enjoying the beautiful afternoon. Max asks how long Doris has been in town, and he tells the story of their early morning wake up call.

 

“Man, that's too bad about Steve's mom. I know how that goes. I do … I do.” Jerry has maybe had too much champagne. He started drinking before he got to the party. Worried about who would be there and whatever the hell else crackpot conspiracies. He is tittering and swaying back and forth which is a bit worrisome for a man his size.

 

“It's a good thing we took care of her big brothering your house.”

 

Wait.

 

What in the _hell_ does that mean?

 

Does that mean she bugged the house?

 

“Excuse me,” He begins, voice strange sounding to his ears. “I must have misheard you. But are you telling me that Doris was spying on me and my family? _In our home?_ ”

 

There is a silence in their group. Kono mutters swears. The rest of the group looks shocked. Jerry blinks rapidly at him, frowning.

 

“Steve didn't tell you what I found? The equipment was turned off - disabled.”

 

“ _Steve_ did not tell me, no.” He is aghast. There is a dark anger that used to take hold of him when he was a young man. He liked to fight then. He feels that anger now.

 

The next thing he knows is he's next to Steve, tapping him curtly on the shoulder. Who – as luck would have it – is speaking to his mother. “Is there a reason I was not informed your mother committed a felony by _bugging our house?!”_

 

Doris' face immediately shutters closed. Posture stiffening.

 

Steve pales.

 

“Danny,” He begins, alarmed. “I was gonna tell you--”

 

“ _When?_ ”

 

“I don't know! When —”

 

“Wrong answer.” 

 

His heart hurts. He wants desperately to deck him right here. His hands are shaking fists at his side.

 

“Where were they?”

 

He asks Steve, but Doris answers. “The main floor.”  She says softly.

 

“Where on the main floor?”  He demands, turning on her.

 

“The den and the living room.”

 

“For how long? Why?”

 

He gets silence. No one around them seems to notice he is upset. People are milling around smiling, drinking, and having a good time.

 

Steve puts his hands on his shoulders, clamping down. Danny shoves at them to push him away. But he does not budge. His temper flares.

 

“Let go.”

 

“Danny.”  His husband beseeches.

 

“No. I seriously cannot right now. Why wouldn't you tell me?”

 

“I only just found out for sure. I was going to tell you after the baby was born. I didn't want to upset you. Jerry and I were suspicious there were bugs for awhile. But we dealt with it. It's no big deal. It's done – over.”

 

“You're concept of 'no big deal' could fill a stadium.”

 

He needs to get away. Needs to think.

 

“Let go.” It is the quietness of the demand that makes Steve comply. If he had to guess.

 

He moves away as swiftly as he is able. Steve looks torn between anger and sadness. Hears him start in on Doris when his back is turned, sounding dangerous. “This is _your_ fault...”

 

Why should he care what they talk about? Apparently, he is not allowed to know.

 

Kono comes up quickly beside him touching his arm, “Danny?” She sounds upset. He shakes his head angrily, pulling away.

 

“Later.”

 

If he starts in on this now, he's afraid of what he will say.

 

He winds his way through the crowd, ascending the stairs to the open middle deck. Past the grand ball room and on to the main centre featuring several prestigious looking bars and dining areas. He could really use a stout drink.

 

Shit. He can't drink.

 

Maybe something carbonated then. He enters one of the dining areas.

 

\--

 

He's settled on a stool sipping his drink when he hears it. A boom. Making the ship jerk violently. Followed by a terrible screeching noise and another explosion closer to him.

 

The impact hurts. His back kills. He feels stunned; not understanding. There's broken glass and cutlery everywhere. He hears people screaming. Gunfire. Can see people running past him in confusion. The chandelier hanging on the ceiling to his right is swinging madly. Clinking. His hands roam his stomach automatically checking for injury. Finds none.

 

He feels another impact while he is trying to scramble to his knees, arm slung around his stomach: protecting. Someone grabs him sharply, hauling him up.

 

“This one too.”

 

He's being roughly pushed forward by a man in a suit with an automatic weapon. Some guests are being held at gunpoint. Women mostly. He can see others running past the entrance on to the lower deck. He reaches for his own weapon, forgetting it isn't there.

 

He looks wildly around trying to assess the situation. Looking out the floor to ceiling windows he can see the lower deck is being cleared by the liner's guard. People streaming down the stairs and ramps to the port below. Some falling over into the water. An alarm of some sort is blaring. Gunfire is being exchanged. Security is returning fire to the group trying to round them up. Another explosion rocks the ship and the room seems to be jeering to the side.

 

His head is swimming, feet stumbling. The ball room is being cleared and he is pushed unceremoniously toward the staircase leading to the 1 st  Class areas. Three gunmen shepherding them along. He trips, knees hitting the floor hard. There is a flash of pain that rolls through him. Grips him tight in his gut.

 

Shit. No.

 

He hears a gun unload next to him. Making his ears ring.

 

He watches the gunmen at the highest point on the stairs sprout blood from his throat and fall. His comrade attempts to return fire at whoever sniped the first, and meets the same end. He takes the opportunity to shove his elbow up into the nearby nose of the last gunmen; who initially caught him. Enjoys the satisfying crunch of cartilage.

 

The small group that was gathered scatters going for the exits. He is horrified to see the split group members shot at and gathered up additional gunmen ascending the outer stairs. Can only think he needs to get away. He can't help these people.

 

A vice grip takes hold of his upper arm. He turns to attack only to find a bloody and pale Doris.

 

She pushes him forward, away from the exits, where people are being mowed down.

 

They run through one of the entrances beside the grand staircase, take a sharp left through an open door five doors down, jogging down a corridor. Running hurts. He feels like he is bumbling.

 

The ship tilts harshly again, throwing them both to the floor. Ship groaning grotesquely. The lights stutter and go off. Generator kicking in a minute later, casting a green glow of light. The alarm is still blaring.

 

He is straightening up when he feels another terrible cramp.

 

He grimaces, putting his hand on his stomach. Sucking in a harsh breath.

 

“Are you okay?” Doris asks, nearing, forehead lined with worry, grabbing him by the arm.

 

“I'm fine.” He jerks away. Still furious with her.

 

“You don't look it.” He isn't.

 

Doris nods slowly. “We saw a helicopter land on the pad. We thought it was the last diplomat, but the explosions started immediately after. So I'm not sure. The men who grabbed the people in the main dining area were only there for hostages. The rear guard came up quick so they're probably on a time table.”

 

They try to make their way to the southern exit, but get caught.

 

The hallway is filled with smoke. He holds his sleeve over his mouth to try and filter it.

 

They get to one of the midlevel staircases leading down. He can see through the windows fires bright and licking up the side of the ship. The ship shudders again. Gunmen spot them, and ascend the stair after them.

 

Doris is out of ammo, but holds her own. Taking another down. He kills another, pushing him over the rail. But then they are surrounded and hauled down the stairs. Their wrists get tied. Doris kicks the face of one gunman, breaking his nose in a spatter of blood. Her feet get tied, and she is hoisted over the largest man's shoulders.

 

They get hauled out to the lower deck. A small yacht is next to the giant hole on the port-side of the liner. Fire consuming most of it and spreading. He can barely breath and is forced to go over a rickety gangplank that connects to the yacht. Twenty or so people ahead of him – all looking terrified.

 

He would jump for the water if he wasn't positive he would do more damage.

 

A series of explosions take place after he has boarded. The yacht turns tail after a group of assailants run on with large duffel bags in hand.

 

They leave behind a port on fire.. The liner finally tilts to it's side and rests, dragging into the sand at the bottom. Alarms and sirens blaring. Debris everywhere.

 

Their phones are tossed over board.

 

They get so far out, he cannot see land anymore. The yacht buffets roughly against the rolling waves, trying to create distance. He would guess it is late afternoon, quickly turning into dusk. The light of the dying liner a dot on the horizon. No other ships are around. The hostages are forced to sit on the deck, wrists tied.

 

Then they get dark hoods shoved over their heads.

 

Lights out.

 


	2. The Desire to Not Give Birth on a Dirty Barge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The members of the McGarrett family are all Rambo.

“She is a very lovely woman.”  Doris comments, slowly rotating her drink in her hand by the stem.

 

“Mm-hmm."  Steve agrees absently, taking another sip of champagne, looking over the crowd on the deck around them.  "She is. A good agent too.”

 

“I asked Lori a little about her time on 5-0."  Doris says, pausing to gauge his reaction, before continuing.  "She told me something kind of cute. She said that she admitted having some romantic feelings to you before she left.”

 

“Mom.”  He grouses, giving her a sharp look.  Why?  Every damn time since she found out he was in a relationship with Danny.

 

“What?"  His mother says with a quick tilt of her head - like she doesn't know _exactly_ what she's doing.  "I never get to enjoy girl-talk. It was interesting and surprisingly candid.”  Doris has been systematically irritating him since joining him by the bar on deck.  He knows she's digging for more information on Lori.  Annoying him is just a bonus for her.

 

Steve sighs deeply.  “That was a couple years ago.  And I was with Catherine at the time.” He deflects.  Sure, Lori was attractive.  Is attractive.  And smart.  But he sure as hell was not looking.

 

“So you were attracted to her?”  Doris presses with a knowing look.

 

“No – just – come on. You know I'm married.”

 

“You weren't married then.” She teases.  Smirking.  Patting his cheek in a haughty manner.

 

He brushes her off, frowning pointedly at her.  “Well I am now. You gotta stop bringing this stuff up. I am _so_ married.”  He emphasizes.

 

Doris waves her hand dismissively, smiling up at him. “I know that, Steve.” 

 

“We were only ever friends.”  He mutters into his drink.  It's the truth.  Danny was the only friend that made him look twice.  The one who surprised him years later.

 

He feels a sharp tap on his shoulder. Speak of the devil. His husband stands beside him. Expression strange.

 

Danny asks him about Doris bugging the house.  It feels like being plunged into a icy pool.

 

Damn it to hell.

 

Danny's so angry he's pale and shaking.  It becomes obvious that he can't keep him here. Make Danny listen to reason. Let him properly explain.  His husband looks so hurt. Betrayed. Ready to haul off and hit him.

 

So he lets him go. What choice does he have?  He can't stress him out more.  Steve watches him angrily waddle away. Hoping to give Danny time to cool off.

 

This is Doris' fault.

 

Tells her _exactly_ why his very pregnant spouse being upset is entirely her fault.

 

He would have told Danny eventually. Maybe not the very second he had the baby. But not long after. For sure. Absolutely.

 

He turns away from his mother. Downing another glass of champagne. She's gone when he glances over to berate her some more.

 

He snorts. Figures.

 

An explosion is set off. Almost knocking him off his feet.

 

It is chaos after the second is detonated.

 

Security is evacuating everyone on the outer deck. He fights the tide to get to the mid-level. Where he saw Danny head.

 

Draws his gun when he hears gunfire. Sees Chin and Lou do the same. The only ones not running to escape.  He can't stay after a while. Gunmen forcing him out. The port-side is engulfed in flame. Spreading. Ship tilting wildly to its side.

 

Everyone is abandoning ship.

 

The port is burning steadily. Gunmen have hostages in a crescent shape around it. The governor is safe along with several other diplomats.

 

He orders HPD arriving on the scene to find the liner's guest list and process who is here and who isn't. Prays Danny is in the crowd somewhere.

 

SWAT shows up. And 5-0 gears up. He has snipers set up in case they need to take out the gunmen.

 

Tries to talk to them. Get them to stand down. Release some of the hostages.

 

He gets intel on the comm that HPD has run through the guest list. Listing the hostages before him. And the twenty-two people still missing.

 

Danny is missing.

 

Never. He _never_ should have allowed him to walk away. He should have followed him. Insisted on having the blow out then and there.

 

He orders two of the gunmen to be sniped. And then he is _on them._ Fighting on the burning port. They've trapped them. Hostages running to safety.

 

He may or may not be using them as punching bags. Demanding answers from them.

 

Then the governor gets a ransom video sent to his phone.

 

The other videos follow in short order. Chin takes his phone away from him. He feels like he did when he was on the phone with Hesse right before he killed his father.

 

Out of control.

 

\--

 

It seems like the ship moves onward at full speed for hours. He gets cramps every fifteen to twenty minutes. But they are bearable.

 

His shoulders hurt from having his wrists tied behind his back, and he has rubbed his wrists raw. The wind blowing past them makes him shiver after a while. He can hear the other hostages crying.

 

The boat stops suddenly, and he feels himself jerk to the side hitting someone else.

 

They are moved. A firm grip pushes him along by the back of his collar.

 

He descends stairs. Another boat he would guess, but it is barely moved by the waves beneath. Calm waters. Big boat.  It is cold wherever he is though. The room echoing.

 

He is shoved down onto a cold metallic seat. Bonds holding his wrists are cut. His arms are pulled forward and his wrists get tied down again on the arms of the chair. Hears other hostages get pushed down and re-tied beside him.

 

A woman is speaking animatedly somewhere, like she's on a roll. He can't make out what she is saying. A different language.

 

Their hoods are torn off. Armed men going down the line of hostages. He is near the end. The room is a long rectangle with stained cement walls. Litter and dirt cover the floor. No windows. A drain on the floor.

 

The only furnishings is the line of metal chairs that have been set up side to side; splitting the room. Glancing around, he'd guess the twenty or so hostages have all been put in here together.

 

Doris is directly to his left. Eyes assessing everything. Her feet are still tied in front of her. She is bleeding sluggishly out the corner of her mouth.

 

He gets another cramp which makes him duck his head and hiss through his teeth. It is a long one this time, cranking the pain to eight. He screws his eyes shut against the pain.

 

When it ends he feels sweaty and gross. Doris looks sternly at him. “You're in labor.” She accuses.

 

“Maybe a little.” He allows.  He has time. He can make it out of here. Can get to a hospital and make sure the baby is born somewhere safe. He has to - there is no other acceptable option. It took Rachel fourteen hours to push Grace out. His water hasn't even broken.

 

“But I don't see how that's any of _your_ business.” He says angrily. Remembering the bugs.

 

Doris gives him a hard look.  “It is my business to protect my family whether you like it or not.” She states firmly. “You _will_ work with me to get both of you out of here safely.”

 

An armed man comes in. He is holding a hand held camera. A woman follows. Holding a revolver.

 

She has a manic look about her.

 

“So these are the ones who killed our comrades?” She points her gun at him and Doris. “The pregnant one, and a retired teacher?” She looks at them critically with a crooked frown. There is a tense moment where he is all but certain she is going to shoot them. But she laughs instead. Throwing her head back; cackling.

 

“What can I say?” She sounds demented. “I was a bit cheap putting these men together for this job. You live and you learn. But you can't argue with the results.” She gestures broadly to the hostages assembled.

 

“So what if some die in the process? That is the cost of doing business.”

 

She claps her hands together. “Okay. Since my client wants to dicker my price. We need to make some videos to make bank.”

 

She and the gunmen start pulling them forward one by one. Interviewing each. Prompting them to speak to the person the assailants think will pay. He finds out the governor's sister is here. Some family members of diplomats too.

 

Surmises this is turning into a lovely little international incident. The interviews take about forty minutes. He cramps bad three times. Doris tries to comfort him.

 

She doesn't comfort him.

 

Doris gets pulled forward before him. Her face takes on a pleading appearance.  The picture of vulnerable. “Please. Let my son-in-law go. He's pregnant. He shouldn't be under this kind of stress.” She begs.  No dice. It is evident in the woman's face.

 

Doris tries a different route. Leaning back as far as she is able to make eye contact. “I assume you know who my son is. You've known who everyone here is connected to so far. You have to know my son _will kill you_ if you don't let his husband go. Keep me. I will make sure you escape. It's a good deal.”

 

“You're just a retired school teacher.” The woman in charge comments, suspicious.

 

“I'm not.” Doris blunts. This is Doris in her element. “You heard what I did to your gunmen. And I saw you had the liner's manifest earlier. You looked all of us up. I'm a consultant for island security. I'm the person to get you out.”

 

The woman smirks and crouches in front of Doris. A predator playing with its food. “I _don't need_ some washed up teacher cum government secretary to help me escape.” She purrs, before continuing.

 

“And in case you haven't noticed, Mrs. McGarrett, I have already gotten away. If your son doesn't provide payment you're dead. And your son-in-law and grandchild will be worse than dead.”

 

She stares at him then with her too-wide eyes, “I'm going to sell you and that baby. I will cut you open in front of the camera and take that child myself.”

 

No. He thinks. Screams it in his head. He will die first before that happens.

 

“And you are going to tell your husband that.”

 

She skips Doris, and pulls him forward. Legs of the chair creating a shrill noise when dragged.

 

The camera is blinking on.

 

She stands beside her cameraman. “Tell us your name.”

 

He coughs, clearing his throat. Frightened. Does his best to seem impassive. “Detective Danny Williams”

 

“Who is your husband?”

 

“Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett.” He grinds out. Tired of hearing others go through this charade.

 

“And why is it important we get paid as soon as possible?”

 

He doesn't want to say. Acknowledge it.

 

“Don't be coy, Detective.” The woman coos.

 

He twists his mouth to the side. Can imagine the team getting the video feeds of all the hostages asking their relatives for ransoms.

 

“Don't do this, listen to Doris, she --.” He was going to say she was offering them the deal of a lifetime. But the red light goes out on the camera. The woman steps forward and backhands him. Ring cutting his forehead. The hostages whimper around them. Some crying.

 

She rips his hair back. Makes a gesture to continue filming.

 

“Try again.”

 

“Because you'll cut the baby out and sell it.” He states clearly. Glaring at her. Eyes hard in defiance.

 

The woman lets go of him and steps toward the camera. “If you don't pay, I'm going to sell him and your baby to the highest bidder.”

 

She sneers, “I hope it's a boy. Some people would pay a lot of money for a baby boy born from a male pregnancy.”

 

He hates everything. He hates this day, these people, Doris, himself. But most of all. He hates the idea of being tied to a chair and giving birth to a child in a filthy room on a damn boat. Why did he agree to go to the summit celebration? Why did he leave things with Steve so shitty?

 

They get left alone for a long time after that. He can't track how long. Contractions coming and going.

 

People start calling out for water and a restroom.

 

An armed gunman comes in with bottles of water. Helps hostages drink from them.

 

Doris sounds like a little old lady when she asks to have the bonds around her ankles cut. Complaining of circulation problems.

 

Doris gets them cut.

 

It is a big mistake to untie her even a little of course.

 

She looks at him, and he pushes his chair back, hitting the deck. Expecting a gunshot.

 

Doris swings her leg out taking down the gunman assisting her. Hostages gasp out in horror. She kills the gunmen with her heel easily after he hits the floor. No shots fired.

 

He clunkily rolls the metal chair. Winces at the loud screeching noise it makes as he drags it across the floor. The sound of chair dragging the only sound in the room.

 

He is puffing out harsh breaths when he gets his hands on the switchblade in the man's pocket. Starts to cut his binds at an uncomfortable angle.

 

The binding breaks, and he frees himself. He cuts Doris' binds first. She tells the others to be quiet. Not like she needs to, he thinks. They all look tense and scared.

 

Doris takes up the dead man's weapon, checking her ammo. He releases the others.

 

The intensity of the contractions has increased. He grits his teeth, trying to exhale through one.

 

Doris clears her throat, getting the attention of the hostages. “Stay here until you hear gunfire. Then run for cover. Don't stay together if you can help it.” She looks pointedly at him, “ _You_ stay safe.”

 

She slips out the door. It clanks shut behind her.

 

It feels like an eternity before he hears gunfire.

 

He jogs out the door, and runs up the cracked cement steps. It is early morning. Sun barely peeking over the horizon. Freight cargo are stacked everywhere. He realizes they are on a barge. Hears more gunfire coming from the starboard side. They are distracted by her.

 

It's a free for all then.

 

Most of the remaining hostages run for cover behind cargo. A few stay too frightened to move. He can see maybe five gunmen on the small deck above them, lifting their weapons to fire.

 

He makes his way slowly toward the upper deck. Ducking behind cargo for ample cover. Discovers a dead gunman. Bullet through the head. He gets a Sig and some ammo.

 

As he makes his way, he can't help but be impressed. Doris has killed most of them.

 

He is looking around a corner and spies the woman and another gunman run to the upper deck returning fire. Doris hot on their tail. Like fucking Rambo.

 

He has a brief surreal moment where he remembers that this is the grandmother of his unborn child. Taking down armed gunmen with glee.

 

He crouches to cover Doris' back as she ascends the stairs. He shoots one in the head, making him crumple over the side. He moves forward, but has to stop when he gets another contraction. Biting his lip hard against the pain. He is rewarded for letting his guard down by the chill of gun's barrel pointed at the back of his head. He holds his gun to the side and is told to throw it away from him. Switchblade too.

 

The man has a hold of him now, gun at his back. “You don't ruin this for _me._ ” The man hisses in his ear.

 

They take a walk along the upper deck.

 

It is just Doris and the woman now. It is an old fashioned Mexican standoff. Doris has a laceration along her shoulder. Clothes disheveled.

 

Dead gunmen are scattered throughout on top and around the cargo.

 

“Good, one of you are finally doing their job” The woman snarls in his direction, revolver steady, still aimed at Doris.

 

“Shut up. You've almost ruined everything.”

 

“Please, I made you a very rich man.” She quips, tossing her hair back.

 

The man lowers his weapon a fraction. Danny sees his chance.

 

He knocks it out of the way. It goes scattering over the deck..

 

He twists against his captor. The man has regained a painful grip on his arm, and pushes him down. He hears a definite pop - like someone cracking their knuckles – and feels a sudden wetness come out of him.

 

“Oh, God.” The man yells, disgusted. “He wet himself.”

 

“Fuck off, man.” He counters. He's hauled up. Feels another sensation of fluid being released.

 

“Did you really piss yourself?” The annoying woman questions, still aiming her weapon at Doris.

 

“My water broke, you idiot!” He snarls at her. It did. His pants are soiled. Like his suit was not ruined already from everything else tonight. “I'm in labor.”

 

The woman laughs shrilly. A dangerous glint in her eye. She sing-songs, “Pay day!”

 

He feels the anger within him boil again to a rage. Adrenaline spiking. The man who is trying to hold him has his arm around him, the other twisted around his neck. Hand on his chin.

 

They were so close to getting out of this shit storm.

 

But here is some damn news. And everyone better get on board with it. Because he is not having a baby on a _barge_ God-knows-where in the ocean. And he is not going to get his child taken away from him by some poorly trained mercenary. No one. No one ever has taken one of his children away from him.

 

And that is not gonna start now.

 

He bites the man's hand. Drawing blood, sinking down to bone. He yells sharply and Danny gets hit in the side of the head for it.

 

Hard.

 

There is a shot, and the woman lays dead. Hair fanned out. Surprised look on her face.

 

The man is holding his bloody hand. Doris kicks him hard in the head.

 

\--

 

Nothing on this barge works. It's riddled with bullet holes anyway.

 

It won't run. During the gunfight something broke. They're just floating now. Somewhere in between islands.

 

It reminds him of his shitty adventure at sea with Steve.

 

The hostages have been sending up flares. The two teenaged children of diplomats are trying to get the radio to work.

 

The last gunman was tied up, and dumped on a pile of his fellows.

 

He is in the control room. If he looks out the grimy, broken window he can see the cargo loads. He found several broken looking sat phones there by the controls for the ship. He's trying to puzzle one together to make it work between contractions.

 

Doris is helping him.

 

He is uncomfortably hot. The space is close quarters. They work on the sat phones maybe another hour and a half. Pain coming in spurts every ten minutes or so.

 

A terrible cramp makes him swear. Bends forward in his chair to put his head between his knees and takes some deep breaths.

 

“Why'd you do it?” He asks, half bent over. He does not have the rage anymore. Anger still sure. Contractions wrung the rage out of him. But he is curious.

 

“Come after you?”

 

He glares at her in response. “ _Spying on my house, Doris!”_ He shouts.

 

She crosses her arms. Faces him.

 

“I suppose I wanted to feel close to my children. See how they were doing. Steve keeps me at arms length now.”

 

“I can't imagine why.”

 

Doris leans against the wall, sliding down until she is sitting, elbows over her knees. Setting her jaw. “He forgave me the first time – when he discovered I was Shelburne. But my relationship with Wo Fat and the things I hid from him … I didn't think he was at a point where he could forgive me. And then we had that argument the last time I saw him when I was working an op. You remember.” She bites her lip and gestures to him.

 

“Shockingly, I do remember you showing up on our honeymoon. It was the highlight of the trip for me to pull two slugs out of your shoulder and run away from a hit squad.”

 

She ducks her head. “I do apologize for that. I never intended to intrude. But things were dire.”

 

“You showed up anyway."  He points out.  "Like you've done now. How can you expect him to create a place for you in our lives?”

 

“Is it so terrible that I want to live in the place I was last happy with my family?”  

 

“No it isn't. I just don't understand someone who leaves their children.”

 

“Even if it is what's best for them?”  

 

“Leaving the last time was for the best?!”

 

Her face is carefully neutral. “I did what I thought was best for _all_ my children. I want to build relationships with them. It's why I returned. For good this time.”

 

“You've said that before.”

 

“I know it. I'm here to apologize for it.”

 

“Do you even recognize how messed up it is that you were watching us? Did you even know that it wasn't okay? When I think about what you must have seen--” He cuts himself off. Can feel himself blush when he recalls intimate moments with Steve in the den and living room.

 

There is a long silence.

 

“I just could not bear not knowing how they were. Not anymore.” She says quiet, mouth crooked, expression regretful. “You don't know what it is like to have so many obstacles between yourself and your children. I hope you never do.”

 

She looks him in the eye. “Steve was trying to protect his family by not telling you yet. He was going to tell you what I did. He said after you had the baby he would … You - you have a lovely family, Danny, you're very lucky. That's what I saw on the feeds. Every time.”

 

The last part kills him. He doesn't want to believe this from her. There is always an angle with Doris. Will likely never forgive this invasion of privacy. He has to talk it over with his husband. He knows he will forgive Steve. It irritates him, but he always does. Forgiveness just takes a while sometimes.

 

“I don't disapprove of you entirely, you know.”

 

He snorts. Like he needs her approval. Then has a contraction.

 

Doris gets a sat phone to turn on and keep a charge.

 

She dials Steve's number.

 

“Kelly.”

 

“Chin? It's Doris. I got Danny here with me.”  She tells him tersely.

 

Chin yells for Steve. The phone beeps once loudly, making him afraid they lost the call. But the sound echoes like the speaker has been turned on when Steve starts talking. Giving every impression that he is in full, large and in charge SEAL mode.

 

“Danny? Where are you?” Steve demands. “Are you okay? Are you somewhere secure?”

 

“Affirmative.” Doris tells him.

 

“Can I talk to him? Is he okay? Is the baby okay?”

 

Doris holds the phone out to him. He takes it.

 

“No injuries to report.” It's the truth. “We're okay, Steve. Get your ass here now.”

 

Steve barks out a laugh. Sounding relieved.

 

The Coast Guard and 5-0 were already out. Searching. They were already out in force.

 

Trying to track where they went.

 

Doris gives them their rough coordinates. She brings them up to speed on the situation at the barge. 5-0 had to take down a stand off with the remaining gunmen keeping hostages around the deteriorating port. Providing a distraction for the woman to get away with the duffel bags full of cash and all the hostages they thought would garner a ransom.

 

“Steve was going ballistic. Cause we couldn't find you and a bunch of other people. He had those gunmen sobbing at the end. Never seen mercenaries cry like that – bleed either for that matter. Lou had to talk him down. He was _definitely_ going to kill them in front of the governor and all those politicos. I don't think immunity and means would have covered that.” Kono fills them in, speaking excitedly. “I got to have a bazooka. I mean. That was on my bucket list, brah. And all the hostages at the port were saved.”

 

“I'm so happy for you.” He snarks. He can tell she is still anxious. Trying to cover it with talking about how bad ass everyone is on the team.

 

“Yeah, but then everyone started getting those videos sent to them.” She continues, less bold. “I thought McGarrett was gonna have that aneurysm thing you're always talking about happening.” She tries to joke.

 

Governor Denning received the first video demanding a ransom for his sister. The rest came in quick succession shortly after. To each family member. Chin later discovered the whole plan was orchestrated by one of the diplomats trying to ruin the trade agreement.

 

Steve speaks again, after a short silence from Kono. He sounds more like himself now. Less a SEAL. “You don't leave that boat until I come to get you, Danno."  He orders.  "We're not too far from that location. Do you understand?”

 

He sighs audibly, “Where am I gonna go? Really.”

 

He feels another cramp, and bites his knuckles, muffling a groan.

 

The phone cracks with static.

 

“Danny are you sure you aren't hurt? Is the baby okay?” Kono remarks worriedly.

 

“I'm fine. This is a regular Friday morning for me, you know.” His voice is high, false cheer sounds fake even to him.

 

“Danny?”

 

“Take me off speaker?” He asks Kono.

 

“ _Why?”_ His husband practically growls. Voice reverberating.

 

He has already scared everyone enough for one day. But when they get here it's going to be readily apparent he is in labor.

 

“I'm in labor.” Really no way to soften it.

 

There's a scuffle, and a shout in the background.

 

“Steve?” He tries. Thinking he hears his husband's shout.

 

“Oh, shit.” Kono starts, but then she chuckles. There is more shouting in the background. But he can't quite make it out.

 

“He is yelling at the head of the coast guard to go faster. Like that's even possible.”

 

“Just get here, okay?” He hates how quiet and pained his voice sounds. It hurts. And he is afraid for his baby. Wishes the baby would kick or squirm.

 

The sat phone craps out on them. The battery dead. They go through batteries on the other phones, but cannot get a charged pack.

 

He slides to the dirty metal floor when the contractions come. Frequency and intensity increasing. Feels the urge to push. Doris tells him to wait as long as he can before pushing.

 

He _will not_ have this child out on the ocean.

 

Everyone shouts in joy when the Coast Guard arrive.

 

The team practically leaps onto the barge. His husband leading the way, making his heart catch in his throat. Doris helps him down the stairs from the control station. And Steve pulls him into a fierce hug. Hands moving hastily over him trying to locate any signs of injury.

 

“I'm sorry, Danny. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I should have told you. You're okay.” Steve mutters it like a mantra. Over and over. Bringing their foreheads together.

 

Maybe it is because of how tired he is. But he is vaguely surprised when Steve kisses him hard in front of everyone. A few times. It's sloppy, but it comforts him more than anything.

 

“Steven, I don't care if you're in the Navy. You will get me to a hospital _on land_ to have this child. So help me.”  He demands with a raised finger.  The smile Steve gives him in turn after his small tirade melts his heart a little.

 

Danny thinks he already has forgiven him. But then Steve keeps trying to put a blanket around him. It is way too hot for that crap.

 

The Coast Guard and Lou are interviewing the hostages after they are all settled. Full speed toward port.

 

Kono's thin arms are wrapped around him as they sit on a bench. She is sooty and has a tac vest on over her party dress. He rests his forehead in the crook of her neck. Grits his teeth through yet another contraction.

 

She rocks them lightly side to side. Humming something soothing and rubbing his back. He welcomes the embrace. He wishes his mom was here. Kono is a good replacement under the circumstances.

 

His suit is torn, bloody and stained. He feels like petrified crap. Practically convulsing with contractions every few minutes. He had allowed a medic to examine him in a side room. And was told he was about two inches shy of being fully dilated.

 

Steve hovers around. Tentatively touching him then backing off. Like he isn't sure if he is welcome. Expression relieved and worried in turns. Danny really does not want his husband and the other guys to seem him right now. He feels weak and vulnerable. Chin and Lou are at the periphery. Doris even further away, getting bandaged up. Casting furtive glances his way.

 

The contractions are four to five minutes apart and they are still almost a half hour outside of land.

 

The medic asks to help prepare him to give birth on board. He refuses. Giving him an eat shit and die look.

 

\--

 

He doesn't have the baby on board a ship. But it is a near thing.

 

He counts that as a win. Has to - you know - for morale sake.

 

They make port and he is carted out on a gurney. 5-0 and Doris at his side. Contractions back to back. Little relief between peaks of pain.

 

The EMT refuses to move the ambulance despite his pleas. So he kicks everyone out. Waving a gun he recovered from one of the dead gunmen. Aiming it at the EMT.

 

The man has his hands up in supplication. “It won't matter in a few minutes, Detective Williams. You're already too close to crowning.”  He explains.

 

“Steve, please.” He begs, pain wracking him. “ _Make him._ ”

 

Steve dutifully grabs the man by his shirt, looking truly frightening. But the guy does not budge. Though he looks appropriately terrified. “I'm sorry, Commander. But the best thing I could do for you guys is to stay and help him deliver.”

 

He feels raw and flayed from the inside out. One of the doors to the ambulance is closed, creating a small illusion of privacy because he is spread-eagled, facing that side lying on the propped up gurney. The other door is open and he catches glimpses of the team moving around its perimeter. HPD further off in the distance dealing with the hostages. Lights flashing in the pale morning light.

 

Kono comes the closest to the open door. He doesn't mind her as much. He threatens the others when they try. Especially Steve, who has failed him.

 

“You need to let the EMT and Steve in there, Danny."  She tries to reason with him.  "I'm sorry, but the baby is coming now.”

 

“What _I need_ is someone to take me to the damn hospital to have this baby.” It cannot be over yet. He has to have some time. He is supposed to be in a hospital with nurses and doctors. Not this.

 

“Danny.” Kono intones, reproachful. He hates the desperate noise he makes in despair. It is over then isn't it? Finally aware this is the end of the road.

 

He clicks on the safety of the gun and drops it to the floor. Making her scramble for it. He wants to cry. Check that. He is crying a little.

 

The tremendous urge to push strikes him again and it hurts. Like salt pouring over an open wound. He has been shot before. Beaten. Bones broken.

 

This is worse. This is internal and external. A great betrayal of his body. They call this shit natural? He had wanted a C-section. Drugs. The good stuff.

 

Steve is beside him in an instant, bending the leg nearest him, back at the knee. He pushes down with all the strength he has left. The EMT takes his place at the vee of his legs.

 

“Looking good. Almost there.” The EMT tries to encourage.

 

“All I want from you is silence.” He thunders. “Do you understand me? Unless we ask you a question. Understood?”

 

He knows now what if feels like to have your spine on fire. It is a grainy, grinding pain. He isn't even yelling anymore. Only low grunting, pained noises as he pushes. Things he used to hear on the Discovery channel. He feels like a sweat stain and every other grimy thing in the world.

 

His left hand is in a death grip around Steve's wrist. But the man has the tact not to complain. His right hand scratches at the side of the ambulance, trying to find purchase when he bears down. He gives one more almighty push, and feels himself dislodge something.

 

The EMT pulls the baby out once the head and shoulder are free. It is an incredible sensation of relief and pressure. Their baby looks so gross and beautiful as it is held up. Exactly like Grace did. He loves this baby with the same fierceness. Heart full to bursting.

 

Loves _her_ as it turns out.

 

His second daughter.

 

She lets loose one hell of a wail when she realizes she is outside her comfy, squishy home. The cheers outside of the ambulance's cab are immediate. Steve is instructed to cut the umbilical cord with a sterile instrument. His hands shaking.

 

His husband looks shocked. The EMT wipes her off as best he can and swaddles her. Handing her to Steve. She curls inward on his chest. Looking so small. Hands tiny little fists. A dusting of dark curls sticking to her head.

 

“A baby, Danny.” Steve's voice cracks, looking adoringly at their little girl. His large, tan hands cupping her bottom and the back of her head. “This is my daughter.” He says wonderingly. Seems genuinely surprised by it. He smiles wide, proud. Like Grace just scored a home run.

 

Kono is taking pictures with her phone. Thank God the EMT covered him with a blanket after he pushed out the afterbirth. Chin is congratulating them both. Lou and Doris are both wiping at their eyes. Lou more obviously crying. They all look like they've been in a battle. Weapons still strapped.

 

He is so exhausted. Never felt this tired in his life. Steve places the baby in the crook of Danny's shoulder. She squirms into his neck, curling in on herself. Whimpering.

 

“I know. I know.” He whispers roughly to the baby. “We're both ready for a long nap.” He adjusts her in his arms so she is secure. And falls almost immediately to sleep.

 

They eventually make it to the hospital.

 

Later that day – after a few hours of beautiful sleep - Steve helps him get clean in the single unit shower before taking his own turn. When he returns to his hospital bed, a nurse comes in carting the little plastic cubicle cot labeled Baby Girl McGarrett on the outside.

 

His daughter is asleep, wrapped up snug in a polka dot blanket. Small pink cap atop her head. She is even cuter when she does not have amniotic goo all over her.

 

She smells like new baby. He wants to bottle it. He is turned on his side, back facing the door, sharing his pillow with her on his hospital bed. Holding her close. It is so weird. He feels like he has known her so long. It wasn't like this with Grace. The love is the same. But he has felt her move, hiccup, sleep, and wake inside him for months.

 

Her skin is so soft. He traces his finger over her cheek. Kisses her capped head. “Do you know that it's still your birthday, little baby?”  He tells her softly.

 

She squints at him in response. “It's bright out here huh?” He murmurs. “And loud? I'm partly to blame for that. I'll try to keep it down. I'll be sure to tell your dad to keep explosions to a minimum.”

 

He plays with her little hand, pressing his finger lightly into her palm, making her curl small fingers. She is still slightly splotchy, but not as pale as him. He suspects she will have a darker complexion like her older sister. Like Steve.

 

“Are you gonna be like Dad or Daddy?” He questions. Pressing the tip of his nose against the side of her head. “I had a feeling you might look like him. I can forgive you for that one. If I were you. I'd probably choose to take after him too. But personality is still up for grabs. Of course, I've given you my pitch before.”

 

She whimpers, turning her head toward him at the sensation of his nose touching her cheek. She is rooting, rubbing her little face against his nose. “Are you hungry? It's been a couple hours since you last ate.”

 

Steve had changed his first diaper shortly after Danny had fed her. His husband had avoided it like the plague when Joanie visited once a couple years ago. He talked his husband through it: step by step. The man had looked like he was disassembling a bomb.

 

In a way he was. A dirty bomb.

 

Steve had not been impressed by his pun.

 

Breastfeeding is another strange experience for him. She latches easily enough. Rachel had liked it. Said it was a great bonding experience or whatever. He really did not think he would. Had figured it would be an additional reminder that he is not built like most other men.

 

Jury is still out on this one.

 

Steve comes in while he is nursing, freshly changed, hair damp. Settles himself in the chair pushed up to the side of the bed. He reaches his hand out to grab at her little feet swaddled in the blanket. Her feet kick inward in response, dislodging herself. “Don't.” Danny warns him. “She's trying to eat.”

 

“We need to name her.”

 

“Meaning _I_ need to name her.” Danny surmises.  Steve looks at him balefully, like he is trying to deny it. Danny sighs, put upon once again. “C'mon, babe. We've narrowed it down to three names. Look at her and choose one. She's a McGarrett. A McGarrett should name her. I approved all those names on that list we made.”

 

Steve lowers his head to the baby's level, resting his arms on the bed. Her eyes are open, but the color has yet to settle. She is back to nursing. Focused. He glowers at Steve when he takes off her cap and begins to run the wisps of her hair through his fingertips. Making her hair stand up on end.

 

He has his thinking face on. Danny can practically hear the gears groaning under the strain. There's a knock at the door, and people enter a second later without letting them call out the okay. He hastily throws an extra baby blanket over his chest for privacy. Steve sits up in his chair.

 

Kono, Chin and Lou are here. Fresh as daisies. Chin's brought balloons that are brightly colored, proclaiming It's A Girl!

 

Steve lights up. He pulls at the blanket to show them the baby. Danny slaps his hand away.

 

“I put that there for a reason, Steven. They can see her when she's done eating. One of them can burp her if they want.”

 

“What's wrong with seeing you breastfeed?”

 

He ignores his husband and looks at the others. “What's up?”

 

“Well we did come to see how you and the little bundle of joy are doing.” Lou starts, sitting down in a chair. “But we also came to tell you that the scumbag who paid for everything to blow up last night is being extradited back to his own country for treason. Agent Weston sent him packing this morning.”

 

“Good” He remarks at the same time as Steve growls, “He's lucky he is alive.”

 

Danny sighs. Doesn't want to think about the whole mess. He has better things to do with his time.

 

The baby finishes nursing. He sits up straighter, and has Steve take her to show her off properly to their friends.

 

Lou gets to hold her first. “Well look at you, baby girl.” He rasps, letting her little body recline on his forearm, hand cupping her head. She blinks at him, wiggling her legs inside the blanket. He gives her a toothy grin in response.  It's as good a greeting as any.

 

“You are so gorgeous, little keiki.” Kono coos over Lou's shoulder. She has her phone out, snapping photos.

 

“Send some of those pictures to us.” He demands. Grace taught him how to use that iCloud thing so his family can see them in Jersey.  His mother will want dozens of pictures.

 

Kono grins, “It's gonna be hard to narrow them down. I have like sixty already. I took a bunch last night too. I promise the nudes are tasteful.”

 

“Those are never to see the light of day.” He threatens. Wagging his index finger at her.

 

Kono takes a picture of Chin holding her, smiling wide. Then a few pictures of him, Steve, and the baby. She starts to fuss. She's probably gassy. Tells his husband so. Steve attempts another new skill. Putting a rag over his shoulder and tries to get her to burp. Hand covering her back.

 

Steve gets spit up on for his efforts. She cries pitifully immediately afterward, working her way to a wail. And Steve has a new face now. Panicked Dad. He's never cared for a baby this young.

 

“Here.” He makes grabby hands for her. Steve obliges, careful when handing her over. “You wanted Daddy huh?” He cuddles her to his chest, resting her tiny ear against his heart. She does stop crying after a few moments. Stuttering out whimpers.

 

She looks so small in contrast to him.

 

“Poor no-name, baby. What will your family call you?” He croons. She wiggles in his arms, freeing a little hand from her blanket. He snags it between his fingers.

 

He glances at Steve then looks back at his daughter. “It's your dad's fault, little baby. I told him to name you.” He tells her.  She makes a high plaintive noise, causing everyone in the room laugh.

 

“I did."  He adds.  "Just this morning in fact. I said name this baby, Steven. Or else I will name her Kono Jr.” Prompting the reclining, Kono Sr. to hoot in agreement with a smirk.

 

“To which he replied, 'I _got_ this Danny.'” He imitates in his best Steve voice. “Your dad says that to me a lot. And unfortunately, that's usually when I go along with his plans - like a fool.”

 

“It's how we got her.” Steve interrupts.

 

He rolls his eyes, ignoring the flush that is _not_ on his cheeks. “Shut up, you.” A rejoinder which only serves to make his husband look smug.

 

The baby yawns widely, body arching with the effort exerted, creating a tiny sound. Closing her eyes and snuggling in for a nap. He tells Steve to hold her until he can pick a name.

 

The guys take off, leaving the couple with their baby. Kono sticks around and takes several more pictures of the baby yawning widely and sleeping on Steve's chest.

 

He dozes. Needing the sleep more than conversation. Keeps an ear open in case the baby cries. Kono and Steve's conversation lulls him. They talk about how soon they can get the baby in the ocean.

 

Fat fucking chance he thinks. Not until she hits double digits. Like Grace.

 

Speaking of Grace. He wakes up to one of his favorite sounds.

 

“Danno?”

 

Grace is standing in the doorway. Rachel behind her. He had spoken briefly to Rachel, after being admitted to the hospital, and asked her to bring their daughter by the hospital.

 

“Hey, Monkey!”  He greets her warmly.

 

Grace walks toward him, but her eyes are on Steve holding the baby. Steve brings the baby over to them. Danny sits up and instructs Grace on how to support the baby's head while she holds her. Grace seems awed, head bowed over the tiny baby in her arms. Hair falling in strands to the side of her face, creating a small cocoon around the sisters. Kono has her phone up, and he'd guess she is recording the first meeting for posterity.

 

“Gracie, this is Hannah.” Steve announces. Settling the name dispute once and for all.

 

“I finally have a sister?” Grace beams up at them.

 

Rachel peers at the baby, smiling kindly. “Oh, Daniel, she's just beautiful. I knew you could do it. Congratulations to you both.”

 

“Hannah,” Grace whispers conspiratorially to her little sister. “I want to thank you for keeping an eye on Danno when I'm not around. You know I worry. But you can focus on being a baby now. I won't go too far for awhile since it's the summer.”

 

–

 

He has the stroller out and they are rolling. Grace and Steve are jogging along the beach. He walks with Doris up the sidewalk to Greta's food truck.

 

“Did you deflate your beach ball?” Greta screeches, face appalled. “Or have you come to show me the baby who made me so rich?”

 

She steps out of the truck, wiping her hands on a rag. He is not entirely surprised to see how short she is. He pulls back the visor on the stroller. Hannah gives her best gummy smile in greeting. Adorable in her little sundress and wiggling her legs.

 

“Oh, look at this tiny thing. I ought to call you Pickle. This could not have been where all my food went, is it?” Hannah gurgles at her. Insulted he is sure. “She has some prettyful eyes, I'll give you that, my boy.”

 

Greta sighs dramatically at him, resting her hands on her hips. “Get pregnant again so I can pay off my mortgage.”

 

“No way.” One and done. It is a solid motto. Especially when caring for a newborn.

 

“Sky blue eyes.” Greta tuts going back into her truck. “I would have thought they would be green.”

 

They order some drinks, and make their way down to the beach.

 

It is the first time Doris has been around since Hannah was born. His own mother had returned a handful of days earlier. Leaving him with the advice to let Steve reach out. Steve had called her - after some prodding from him - to come out with them today.

 

They find a bench with some decent shade for the lateness of the morning. He tries to make Hannah stand as he holds her by the armpits, but her knees bend every time he tries to rest the pads of her feet on his thigh.

 

She coos and wiggles. They are some of her favorite activities. She looks around with her wide blue eyes. Williams family eyes. His eyes.

 

“John would have just adored these girls.” Doris remarks, shaking some toy keys in front of Hannah. Encouraging her to look at them. “When Mary got Joanie, all I could think - after the initial shock - was how terrible it was John wouldn't get to spend time with her. He would have been a wonderful grandfather.”

 

Hannah watches the keys jangle. Dark hair blowing in the wind, held back by a pink headband.

 

“I want to thank you for getting him to call me.”  Doris says suddenly.

 

“I don't know what you could possibly be referring to,” He responds airily, making faces at Hannah to get her attention back on him. It works.

 

His mother-in-law insists upon the topic though. “He wouldn't have called if you hadn't said something. Thank you for that. I know I don't deserve it.”

 

“You don't.” He agrees readily. “And I'm never gonna do that for you again."  He pauses.  Considering how he wants to say this.  "Just so you know. Your presence – here with us – is ultimately Steve's choice for now. You know he is loyal to a fault. But even he has his limits.”

 

“I know.”

 

“And you better believe that I have my limits too. I am _never_ going to give you a second chance with Hannah if you do something insane. Steve is your son to screw up. But my kids are my call.”

 

“Understood.”

 

“I hope so.”

 

\--

 

Steve has honed some new skills as the father of a one month old. But he still struggles to get her to go to sleep.

 

They're both exhausted. Baby crying. Steve puts the sling on that Danny carries the baby in sometimes. Walks a track in the living room. Hoping to lull her to sleep.

 

Danny has fed her, changed her, sang to her. Rocked her back and forth. One of those usually works. He is nearly out of his bag of baby tricks. He zones out. Watching Steve tiredly pace the floor. Rocking her lightly as he goes.

 

“Has she gone? Maybe she's constipated?”  Steve questions.

 

“She is on a liquid diet. She can't be. Gassy maybe. But I have coaxed belches and baby farts out of this child that you would not believe.” He lets his head drop on the arm of the couch in defeat. Steve is muttering something about Danny's parenting.

 

“Why would I know what to do? Every kid is different.”

 

“Did I say something?”  Steve deflects.

 

“You did. Under your breath. Just because I've taken care of an infant before doesn't mean I have all the answers.” He says, starting to get angry as well as exhausted.  The baby wails loudly. Little face red with the strain.

 

Steve rocks her, looking up at the ceiling like he's praying for patience.  Or energy.  “We should call your mom.”  Steve croaks.

 

“I am not gonna call my mom.” Maybe a text. He's too tired to argue the point.

 

“We can give her a bath.” Steve suggests. “She usually falls asleep then.”

 

Steve fills the kitchen sink halfway. Checking the water temperature as it fills. He puts the tray in that holds the baby. Danny puts a soft wash rag over it. Lifts the baby from the sling around Steve and places her as gently as she can with the way she's squirming.

 

Hannah stops wailing almost immediately when she senses the water. Hiccuping. Her little face looks tired. Steve takes a small cup and fills it up to pour water over her. Using his hand to shield her eyes.

 

“I think you got her.” He compliments Steve. “She's falling asleep.”

 

“Yeah?” Steve raises his hand away from her eyes. She's fast asleep. They hurry to finish her bath. Danny puts lotion on her afterward.

 

She smells like baby powder. He loves that smell. Adorable face finally peaceful. Steve is lying on his stomach snoring, taking up most of the bed, when he carefully puts Hannah in the bassinet.

 

He nudges at Steve until he makes room. Climbing in beside him. Steve wraps his arm around his waist, pulling him in to sleep.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two of my time stamp. The insanity continues. Not Beta read. Thanks for the support
> 
> Cheers,

**Author's Note:**

> Another in my time stamp series. Not beta read. Any errors are my own. Thanks for the encouragement and kudos. 
> 
> Cheers.


End file.
